Undeify
by The Readers Muse
Summary: "This organ is being troublesome," Fiore announced distantly. Emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of humidity and the thwock-thwock of bare feet against cracked tiles.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's "Preacher." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** Vaguely references the theory that Fiore is an angel and Deblanc is a demon and they are the parents Genesis. Set sometime before their first run in at the Church with Jessie and Cassidy.

 **Disclaimer:** sexual content, angelic nudity, adult language, hand job, frottage, angels that have no idea how to properly 'penis' basically anything, human bodies are complicated, religious imagery/definitions/symbolism/discussion.

 **Undeify**

 _ **Chapter One**_

"This organ is being troublesome," Fiore announced distantly. Emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of humidity and the _thwock-thwock_ of bare feet against cracked tiles.

He looked up, mildly curious, only to nearly drop his Glock. Distantly aware that what he was experiencing was called shock as Fiore stood naked and dripping in the door jamb. Face pinched and perhaps slightly pained as he glanced heavenward. Which, ironically, was the same direction the organ in question was now pointing.

He looked down at his own genitals. Somewhat reassured that the condition wasn't catching before he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He decided to settle on the less intimidating question first.

"Why are you wet?"

Fiore had the good grace to actually look rather sheepish. Something which was certainly startling in its own right, but considering the context came out as a mixture of intriguing and slightly alarming.

"My comic, the new one- it had an entire page dedicated to the act. I wanted to experience it."

Distantly he was he aware that he had, in fact, heard the shower running for some time. But had naturally assumed Fiore had been playing with the taps on the sink again.

"A shower," he repeated, uncertain of what to do with the information.

"It is...pleasant. You should try it," Fiore suggested. Dripping water steadily into the thick, shag carpet he'd already decided he disliked immensely. Finding his eyes strangely drawn as Fiore merely stood there and let it happen. Watching an individual trickle branch off in two different directions as it followed the curve of Fiore's chin before sheening down his neck and shoulders. Losing track of it as it disappeared into pre-existing streams and wrapped it's in loose, watery ribbons around and around Fiore's chest.

He pulled his eyes away.

"If _that_ is the result," he issued, pointing to the engorged appendage that was now twitching faintly. Red-blushed and almost purpling like it was under tremendous strain. "I'm not sure if that is a wise course of action."

Fiore fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Appearing strangely restless as the motion gentled limb along. Waving from side to side as Fiore fisted his hands firmly at his sides. Posture uneasy. It looked almost as if he was holding himself back- trying not to touch it. _But why?_ Couldn't he simply ignore it? It seemed quite inconvenient. How ever did human males get anything done if a mere shower provoked such a reaction? Especially with this level of discomfort involved.

It didn't make much in the way of sense to him.

But then again, little about these human bodies did.

"How long has it been like this?"

"Often," Fiore said promptly. Oblivious to the chill in the room as the air conditioner rattled studiously in the background. A human would have likely retreated back into the bathroom by now. Perhaps to retrieve one of the large white towels the maids provided daily despite the fact that he had insisted they'd not been used. But as a rule, neither of them were bothered by the cold. They could sense a change in temperature - even sweat, like any human - but the discomfort associated with it was muffled. Distant.  
 _  
_Which begged the question, why was Fiore so troubled by this new sensation?

What made it different?

"I mean now," he answered patiently, intrigued as he was by the answer. Loosening the tightness of the bolo tie around his neck for reasons he was not completely sure of.

"Since the shower," Fiore admitted, rubbing his hand through his short blond hair. Inadvertently making it stick up in every direction as water collected in the hollow of his belly button before spilling downwards again. Endearing despite the dangerous packaging.

"What were you _doing_ in the shower?" he hedged, shifting slightly as an odd sensation pooled like liquid warmth in his belly. Reminding him of how it'd felt when he'd drank coffee at the diner for the first time. A subtle charge of energy and the spreading sensation of warmth on the inside. Bold and bitter. He'd enjoyed it immensely. Fiore however, had disliked the taste. Preferring the fizzy beverage human children seemed to be always drinking through multi-colored straws and plastic cups. Soda, he thought.

" _Nothing_ ," Fiore responded, a twinge defensive this time. "I didn't touch it."

The corner of his mouth curled upwards in the ghost of a smile. There was a very good chance he _had_ touched it. Even merely by accident, however-

"If you didn't touch it..." he paused, shifting again. Fielding another new sensation - something that felt oddly as though his trousers had shrunk half a size - as his eyes trailed down the lean strength of Fiore's chest.

It was pleasing to look at.

He'd established that early on.

Finding it both familiar and decidedly different.

Host to just enough of Fiore's true form that he could still find him in it.

He had been told similarly that his form was the same.

"You must have done something," he added belatedly. Scolding himself for the lapse in concentration as he set the Glock onto the blue and yellow comforter beside him. "Perhaps it was something you were thinking about?"

He wasn't mistaking it this time. Fiore looked downright evasive. Coloring quickly from neck to chest. Member twitching again, likely laughing at their combined misfortune if it had such power.

"It's never been like this before." Fiore ploughed on stubbornly. Smoothly stepping over the implications of his clear non-answer with a single mindedness that was at least somewhat familiar.

"How is it uncomfortable?" he tried. Caught off guard when he realized his breathing was coming faster. Attention getting caught on the small things, like how Fiore hadn't looked away from him once. How his skin suddenly felt hot - _receptive_ \- and how his bolo tie was bunched up in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Fingers caught in the act of undoing the top buttons of his shirt and-

"It's in the way," Fiore replied, immediate and raw before growing plaintive and furtive-quiet- "It _aches_."

"Aches," he murmured, repeating the world like it was important somehow. Voice low, like he needed to clear his throat. Feeling it viscerally when Fiore responded to a cadence, hips angling - _presenting_. Leaving him with the unavoidable reality that he was now in a similar predicament. The crux of his trousers hard, fat and throbbing with what he expected at this point was the same hardness.

"I feel like, like I-" Fiore started, trailing off as one of the hands still clenched at his hip came to curl like claws around the edge of the door.

"Like you what, dear?"

" _Need_ ," Fiore said softly. Eyes downcast like it was something shameful. Clearly having no idea what that need was as he looked at him with the fan of his lashes. _Trusting._ All he knew was that he did. _Desperately._

He opened his mouth to reply, but only scratchy roughness came out. Forcing him to clear his throat - a strange sensation in of itself - before he could continue. Wondering off-hand if he should be shielding the sight of the swelling between his legs, before something- instinct or perhaps a half understood surge of daring made him spread his thighs instead. Snapping up Fiore's attention immediately as the hardness became unmistakable. But what he hadn't been expecting was the _feeling_. The thing that caused his head to fall back - almost without his consent - when the relief from the pressure translated into something almost... _pleasan_ t.

Fiore's tongue peeked out, tracing the span of his lower lip before pausing there, mouth half open. It was distracting and seemed to only make his predicament worse. Expression pulling tight as his own member twitched, firming against the unforgiving line of his slacks as the desire to free himself grew stronger by the second.

"I don't understand," Fiore issued, gingerly subdued. Like if he spoke the words any louder they would be risking something much worse than their combined predicament. Taking a quick, abortive step free of the threshold to stand firmly in the heart of the room for the first time.

"I might," he admitted, pulling away from the rough tact of the bedspread as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. Wondering if the heat radiating off him had something to do with matters going on south of his waistline. "I believe this is a situation common for most human males. The state of arousal. Sexual receptiveness."

"Arousal," Fiore repeated. Hesitating slightly, as if considering the syllables before issuing them. "As in fornication?"

"I believe so," he answered, the top three buttons on his shirt gaping. Revealing the dark-thin of chest hair that trailed down well past his navel in a narrow strip of contrasting coarseness that ended at his groin. Feeling something twist in the empty of his stomach when he realized Fiore's eyes had gotten stuck on the point where his shoulders met his neck. Realizing almost as it happened that he enjoyed the scrutiny. Tempted to undo another button or perhaps slip out of his shirt entirely as something in the atmosphere of the room shifted into wanting darkness.

"That is..."

"Ill-timed," he agreed, finishing the sentence for them both as Fiore advanced another half step. Bare toes curling into the long orange shag of the carpet. Beautifully pale and almost blue-veined in contrast.

They remained silent for a time, considering the matter.

"Perhaps it will go away?" Fiore attempted. Staring down at the appendage somewhat doubtfully as it jumped and seemed to engorge even further under their combined scrutiny.

"Perhaps I can help?" he suggested. Remarkably casual and composed considering the circumstances. Hardly able to hear anything about the pound of his own pulse as sweat collected in the lines of his palms. Feeling something integral shift - in both body and soul- as the desire to do just that became almost consuming.

To be able to give Fiore this.

To provide for him.

To give him completion in this very human way.

To be the only one to ever-

"How?" Fiore rasped, in that way he had that seemed to transcend everything else. Trusting and fiercely quiet as he looked to him to make sense of what was happening. Just like he always had.

It was a consistency he found both affirming and strangely righteous.

Like in spite of everything, things were still _exactly_ the same.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – There will be one more chapter, stay tuned.

 **Reference:**

* _Undeify_ – "to deprive the nature of a god."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's "Preacher." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** Vaguely referencing the theory that Fiore is an angel and Deblanc is actually a demon and are the parents Genesis. Set sometime before their first run in at the Church with Jessie and Cassidy.

 **Disclaimer:** sexual content, adult language, hand job, frottage, angels that have no idea how to properly penis basically anything, human bodies are complicated, religious imagery/definitions/symbolism/discussion.

 **Undeify**

 _ **Chapter Two**_

He closed his eyes. Too hungry to do anything else but try and maintain his self control. Trying to remind himself why it would be a bad idea to rush this. Why he had to proceed cautiously - slowly. Why Fiore deserved more than-

"Come here," he rasped. Not trusting himself to say anymore as the quiet lurch of hesitation from Fiore's side of the room created patterns in the air he could almost taste. Fiore had always been cautious. Careful and cognizant of the rules despite being so very curious. Often fearful in ways that usually contradicted the other when it came to that which he was passionate about.

He smiled, the expression slight but undeniably present when he sensed the angel's shadow looming over him. A steady, reassuring counterpoint to the faint sound of the television filtering through the wall from room #115.

"I- I don't know what to do," Fiore confessed, as he grudgingly opened his eyes. Almost snapping them shut again as Fiore turned in place and sent a flight of shadows curling across the angles of his hips. Buttocks shapely and pronounced as he leaned down and picked a bit of lint from between his toes.

"I confess I'm not much better, my dear," he hummed, coaxing Fiore to sit down on the bed beside him. Bare, beautiful and _his_ in that genuine way only Fiore could be. "But I'd like to try, is that alright?"

Fiore nodded, leaning in as their fingers tangled across the bedspread. Reminding him of the first time. That one desperate little moment all those centuries ago that had born witness to the first time they'd touched. Bodies humming with restless content as he'd broached the space between them the same time Fiore's wings flared outwards. Wingtips brushing down the gnarled hunch of his shoulders like a caress.

It was the first time the concept of forever had actually meant something to him. Something other than the mindlessness of battle and the desolation of that long road that stretched far in front of him. The one without time or destination. From that moment on Fiore had become the answer to every question. And he knew, regardless of where this particular road might take them - as Genesis careened through the human world with all the foolishness of it's rebellious teenage years - that was a truth that would never change.

The first brush of his hand against it seemed to startle both of them equally.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, taking in the slight bow of his partner's back. Like he was caught somewhere between pulling away and wanting to shuffle closer. "Did I hurt you?"

Fiore shook his head emphatically. Shuddering slightly as the tip of the organ slicked itself with a small, doming pearl of fluid.

 _Fascinating._

He reached forward almost painfully slow this time. Keeping his eyes on Fiore's face as he wrapped his hand gently around the length of it. Marveling at the velvet softness - deceptive and warm as the slight squeeze of his palm wrenched a low, surprised hum from the angel's throat.

He eased Fiore down until he was within easy reach. Letting his hand move, following the tension he was uncovering - bit by bit - as Fiore came apart under his hands. His frame of reference might have been more… _lurid_ than Fiore's but if so, it wasn't by much. He was well aware he had very little in the way of experience. So instead, he let Fiore show him. Guiding him through action and expression. What to do. What to abandon. What to linger on before settling into a comforting rhythm.

"Tell me..." he breathed. Utterly lost to anything else now as Fiore's hips tried to cant upwards. Finding himself pressed half on top of him on the bed. Keeping him flat and cloistered as his hand kept moving. Working him with a dependable, unforgiving pattern as slick started to trickle from the angel's length. Wetting between his fingers and turning the glide easier as Fiore groaned in encouragement. Head tossing back and forth on the pillows as the muscles in his arms and chest delineated. Preening with unconscious instinct as his entire world narrowed down to the sensation of his hand and the organ caught firm underneath.

"It's different," Fiore gasped, making him bite his lip as a frisson of _something_ rippled through him. Something about the words or maybe just how Fiore said them translating like pleasure somehow. "Its so-"

And he was right.

Even he could tell that much.

It wasn't like it had been in Heaven.

"-sharp," Fiore almost _mewled_. Making a strangled sound - so different from the actual act that it couldn't be mistaken for anything else other than pleasure.

And- _yes-_ he could feel it too.

It was more urgent.

More present.  
 _  
Physical._

In Heaven it was a fusion of emotion and sensation that rolled outwards and lasted an age. It was ordered bliss. A coming together of souls that could occur regardless of time and place.

But this?

This was almost savage.

And he didn't think he could ever get enough, even if-

He realized belatedly that he was moving too. Using his situation - keeping Fiore down and spread across the mattress - to his own selfish advantage. Hips rolling without his consent against the curve of Fiore's far bonier ones. Eyes half-lidded at the ferocity of the sensation as he tried his best to chase it.

Multi-tasking as Fiore's hand fell on top of his own. Guiding the pace and speed as they panted breathlessly. Choking through a mangled chorus of syllables when Fiore caressed the divot between his knuckles. Almost preening underneath him now as he ground himself into his partner's skin, wholly unable to stop himself from-

"Deblanc..."

It was an instinctual draw.

An unstoppable force.

Something that kept him moving.

Something that kept them _both_ moving.

It was a sin.

A blessing.

A curse.

It was a psalm sung on high when the sun was at it's peak.

Breaking over them like-

"Yes, my dear?"

Fiore arched underneath him. Eyes burning with it. Reminding him of the moments just before the fall - safe in their seclusion while Genesis slept - where Fiore's true form would flare brightly. Blinding him even through closed lids as they shuddered together.

Pure.

Whole.

 _Sated._

"I- I- don't- I can't-"

"Hush," he gentled. His casual tone gaining a certain breathy quality as he watched a conflicting shudder of need and uncertainty ripple across the angel's face. Soothing the coltish tremblings as he coaxed the desire he found - electric, possible and tightly leashed just under the angel's skin - through the soft of laugh lines and crow's feet. Easing it free until it was unfurling on it's own. Present in the sheen of moisture seeping from his pores and the desperate gap between his lips as Fiore panted for air. "You can, I promise."

Still, he caught on to the urgency. Surprised to find that once again it was a matter of due course. To decide if was better to willingly fall or allow the monster that was desire to quietly devour. The distinction was slight, but to an angel? It was everything.

"Yes, I- _oh!_ " Fiore whispered, lashes fluttering as he added a twist to the next upstroke. Dragging his thumb through the slick of the member's crown before spreading it liberally over the head. His own organ pulsing and insistent under his layers. Demanding attention as Fiore undulated up, inadvertently trying to unseat him in the search for more, more, _more_.

The reflection he caught of himself in Fiore's blown eyes was all pupil, dilated and almost black. It took him back to the beginning. _Their beginning._ The hand not occupied fisted around the span of Fiore's palm, feeling the muscles and sinews stretch and tense under his hands as Fiore grasped at him fitfully. Heat radiating from his skin as they leaned as close as their positions would allow. Breathing the same air. Body language exposed and needy and maybe even unintentionally threatening as they tried to make sense of bodies and drives that were still unfamiliar. Still new.

"It was you," Fiore gasped suddenly. Looking up at him through the muddled haze of building pleasure and humid breaths. "In the shower. I was- I was thinking of you."

And oh-

 _Oh._

 _That was-_

That was the first time he died without having to replace his skin. A little death shared freely between them as Fiore spilled over his hand with an unsteady cry. Pulling him close as the wetness in his trousers pulsed and spread, sticking his underthings to naked skin -tacky and thick against his groin. Unable to form the words he knew a human would utter in the aftermath. But taking comfort in the knowledge that he didn't have to do as Fiore stretched out underneath him, long fingers dipping under his rucked up shirt to trace waving, curious patterns down the small of his back. Soothing them both into something heavy and spacing-warm as the world fell away and the sound of Fiore's heartbeat reminded him it was safe to open his eyes.

If only for a little while.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.


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